New York, Brooklyn.
The sky remained clear until nightfall. Then, before midnight, dark clouds materialized from nowhere and swallowed the moonlight.
Cloud accumulation came with intermittent lightning and thunder. Within minutes, both intensified.
Anyone with basic life experience recognized the signs. Torrential downpour incoming.
Few people noticed the human figure faintly visible in the clouds when lightning flashed.
As dawn broke, the deluge began.
The entire Brooklyn area slept through the storm. Even the motorcyclists who'd stayed up latest cursed their way home, complaining about the disappointing weather. Extreme profanity echoed through the neighborhood, drowning out engine roars.
Strangely, Manhattan across the water remained barely touched by rain.
As if some mysterious force intervened, controlling celestial phenomena with clear, distinct boundaries.
A slender figure wearing a hoodie emerged from the still-operating subway station. A young Asian woman, just finishing her shift.
Rain poured down. She had no choice but to run toward her dormitory in the slum through this terrible weather.
Fortunately, less than two blocks from the subway station. In weather like this, she wouldn't need to worry about street-corner thugs during the night walk.
The only problem? She'd be soaked after a few steps. Probably catch a cold tomorrow.
The girl froze suddenly, startled by the figure standing motionless in the middle of the road beneath a streetlight.
Not very tall. Also wearing a hood.
The torrential rain made the long shadow beneath the streetlight sway and shake, resembling a patient hunter stalking prey on the grassland.
The girl wiped her face, barely opened her eyes. A feeling washed over her.
That person was waiting for her.
She instinctively tried to go around, but bright, pale purple lights flickered in her blurred vision.
Before she could react, the hooded figure raised a hand. Purple lightning shot toward her.
The girl screamed.
Ripples of energy spread through the air before her, then vanished into nothing.
"Sorry. Did I disturb you?"
The hooded figure whipped toward the voice's source. A tall figure holding an umbrella emerged from the darkness.
Jordan had noticed the unusual weather while passing through the neighboring area and made a special trip.
Deep blue psychic energy swept over the girl's body. Initially frightened, the psychic power hypnotized her. She slumped.
Blue light enveloped her, protecting her from rain while carrying her to the eaves of a roadside house.
The hooded figure spoke in a deep voice. Clearly a woman.
As she asked her question, purple sparks ignited in her hands again, completely disregarding whatever Jordan's answer might be.
"Instead of asking who I am, why don't you tell me about yourself?"
Jordan paid her no mind, watching the crackling between her hands. Two blinding bolts of purple lightning pierced the rain and wrapped around him with a sizzling sound.
Why is this person unharmed? She thought.
"Oh, I forgot to mention." Jordan opened his left hand, the one not holding the umbrella. The purple lightning dancing across his body gathered and was devoured in the blink of an eye. "I also know a little about lightning. Especially electromagnetic manipulation."
The hooded figure remained silent. Then purple sparks erupted from her feet, propelling her skyward.
Unclear whether she wanted to leave or gain aerial superiority.
A pure purple fist slammed down from midair, driving the woman back to the ground before she'd flown ten meters.
The flooded ground cracked from impact. The hood covering the woman's face blew off, revealing the slightly disheveled features of a short-haired white woman.
"You're in such a hurry to leave before finishing the conversation? Incredibly rude."
Jordan approached with his umbrella. F-boy floated back and disappeared into his body.
The woman's voice turned angry. "You madman! Why are you interfering?"
"Preventing you from venting violence? Or preventing you from being racist?"
He paused. "Liberty?"
The woman struggling to her feet froze, not expecting recognition.
Her hero name had been famous last century. One of the superheroes promoted by Vought International.
But Liberty had retired decades ago.
Having watched the series, Jordan knew the truth. Tracing back to the source, this seemingly young short-haired woman was actually a Nazi remnant born in 1919. She'd gained superpowers through the first Compound V experiment and lived to the present day.
Just by looking at her background, she was a villain who deserved to be shot for five minutes straight.
Jordan approached step by step.
"Get out of my way, you damn sympat—"
The white woman suddenly burst forward with superhuman speed, leaping toward him. Apparently realizing her superpowers proved ineffective, she'd switched to physical attacks.
"ORA!"
The familiar battle cry interrupted Stormfront's slur. Her cheek suddenly caved in. She flew backward as if hit by a dump truck.
The blasted woman slammed back-first into a brick wall, creating cracks. She spat blood.
However, the disfigured cheek rapidly healed at visible speed, muscles shifting and misaligned bones returning to their original positions.
Between them, F-boy withdrew his fist, having enjoyed those two punches after a long absence from combat.
"In the seventies, Vought International launched you as a superhero. You failed to cover it up and were exposed for racism and killing African American."
"After that, you disappeared. But similar records show you still couldn't control your Nazi ideology. You'd occasionally vent by targeting ethnic minorities."
"I've reviewed Vought Corporation's alternative plans. One suggested you rebrand as 'Stormfront' and make a comeback. However, I'm sorry." His tone remained flat. "I've rejected that proposal."
As viewers of the show knew, this was a character appearing in Season Two of The Boys. Not long after her debut, she'd shed her heroic facade, revealing her ugly inner self: racist, extremely violent, ruthless, fond of torture.
Jordan had found Stormfront's retirement address in Vought's archives and was heading there when he discovered she'd used her powers to change the weather. Clearly preparing for something tonight.
"Of course, who has ever seen a dead person become a hero?"
He delivered his final verdict, gaze scrutinizing a corpse.
Stormfront forcefully pried her jaw back into place, seemingly feeling no pain.